


Inter-House Unity Is For Lovers

by phonecallfromgod



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M, Multi, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phonecallfromgod/pseuds/phonecallfromgod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Keating's obsession with Inter-House unity is really ruining Steven Meeks' attempts to date Charlie Dalton in peace. Or the Hogwarts Secret Dating AU no one was asking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inter-House Unity Is For Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the DPS Freestyle Swim Prompt: "DPS Harry Potter AU: you decide what houses the boys are in. Keating is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and his new ways of teaching are something Hogwarts has never seen." by willshakesqueers.

Steven, quite frankly, blames the whole thing on Professor Keating.

On the whole Keating is probably the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Steven has ever had. Not that there’s a lot of competition in the revolving door of rejects they’ve had over the last five years, but still. Keating is friendly yet professional, he grades fairly, and thus far has managed to not set loose any dangerous magical creatures in their classroom, which in itself is a huge improvement over last year.

But, for all of this Keating has one glaring fault; his aggressive and single-headed obsession with inter-house unity.

And Steven gets it, he really does. The Hogwarts Keating attended was rife with inter-house rivalry and that whole thing with Slytherin being a breeding ground for racist extremists instead of representing its actual house values (admittedly created by a racist extremist, but the point still stands).

But seriously that was _ages_ ago, Steven’s basically living proof given his blood status, and racist extremists or not that’s no excuse for this kind of hamfisted unity bullshit. Steven’s pretty sure it’s just making them hate each other all over again.

Last week Chris Noel looked about five seconds from strangling Cameron with her red and gold tie when he reached over and corrected the notes she had been taking about medicinal uses of gillyweed. Two weeks before that Gerard, Neil, and Ginny had all gotten into a screaming match about proper wrist placement when casting _alohomora_.

(Gerard had been right in the end which was a real hit to Neil’s ego and lead to a week’s worth of sulking. Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to be thrilled to be proven wrong and the two had been kicked out of The Three Broomsticks the next weekend for inappropriate conduct. Ravenclaws were weird like that.)

Worst of all Keating’s scheme has left Steven sitting next to Hufflepuff golden child Charlie Dalton for the last three months and counting.

It wasn’t that Steven disliked Charlie. Not at all. Charlie Dalton was smart, reasonably good looking, witty in a biting sort of way that Steven found funny, both a prefect and Hufflepuff quidditch captain, and actually sort of a nice person once you got past a few layers of messed up childhood and self importance.

In short the problem wasn’t that Steven disliked Charlie, or even that Charlie disliked him, but in fact that the two had been secretly dating for the last three months. And this whole having to share a desk and do group projects together was starting to erode the whole secrecy part of their secret relationship.

“Would you stop that?” Steven hisses under his breath one afternoon while Keating lectures on about the identification signs of someone placed under the Imperius curse.

Charlie turns on him with a little pout and doe eyes but dutifully removes his hand from where it’s resting just above Steven’s knee. “You’re mean.” Charlie whispers, light and teasing.

Steven raises an eyebrow in response and gestures at his green and silver tie. “Sort of comes with the territory.”

“Mr. Meeks!” Keating booms from the front of the class. Not mean exactly, but there’s a touch of warning behind his enthusiasm. “Something you’d like to share?”

“Uh-” Steven starts, before Charlie jumps in and cuts him off.

“He was just explaining to me how to tell the difference between someone in a psychic trance and someone under the Imperius curse. But I’m still not sure I understand.”

This is a lie of course, because even if they hadn’t been talking about the various placements of Charlie’s hands on Steven’s body, there’s no way Charlie wouldn’t know the difference between the two. He’s always gotten top marks in divination, even though he swears he’s making at least half of it up. Steven’s always been half tempted to ask him to read his tea leaves anyways, see what Charlie would make of all the things he’s not saying.

Keating however isn’t privy to the private inner life of Charlie Dalton so his face lights up at the promise of a teaching moment and immediately launches back into his lecture.

 _‘you’re welcome’_ , Charlie writes across a corner of Steven’s parchment and he doesn’t rise to the bait, but he doesn’t make Charlie move his hand away 10 minutes later, so that’s something.

 

“I just don’t get what your problem is?” Gerard asks two days later when they’re doing rounds after dinner.

Steven’s still not 100% sold on this whole ‘let’s have students roaming the halls to make sure students aren’t roaming the halls’ business, but the endless laps of the castle help him think and Gerard is as good company as anyone.

Or at least normally he is when he isn’t being so judgey.

“You like him, he likes you. You’ve basically been together for months already, I don’t know why it has to be this big secret.” Gerard says. He’s twirling his wand between his fingers like a baton and Steven fights off the urge to tell him to stop. The other prefects have already started calling him mom he doesn’t need to add to the reputation.

Steven sighs, “It’s not like I’m having fun. But it just makes everything easier.”

“Listen, I don’t want to undermine your feelings but literally no one cares about house rivalries anymore. I mean, look at Neil and Todd!”

“Did they finally get together?” Steven asks, surprised. Last he heard they were still sneaking not-so-secret glances and loitering around each other’s common rooms to accidentally on purpose bump into each other.

Gerard hums, “Not yet, but any day now! But the point is, unless you guys are super into the sneaking around thing there’s no reason to keep up the charade. If we’re all waiting with baited breath for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to get together, you two aren’t even going to come close to rocking the boat.”

“Listen just because we aren’t making a scene in The Three Broomsticks doesn’t mean we’re doing anything wrong.” Steven says and immediately feels like a jerk, but luckily for him a pack of fourth year Ravenclaws come around the corner whining about the riddle and they’re both distracted enough he doesn’t have to apologize.

Gerard doesn’t bring it up again for the rest of their shift and they distract themselves chatting about Steven’s transfiguration essay and the upcoming Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff quidditch game.

It’s all completely fine and dandy in fact until they bump into Chris Noel on her way up to Gryffindor Tower.

“Oh! Steven! I have a special delivery for you.” She says, digging into her pockets and producing a small origami, well it’s probably _supposed_ to be a hippogriff but it mostly just looks like a lopsided pigeon. “Ta-da! It’s from Charlie. He said you’d know what it’s about, something about that project for Keating’s class? I haven’t even started, but I’m partnered with Cameron and he’s so finicky about it. Ravenclaws I swear.” She hands him the note and gives a little half wave over her shoulder before disappearing up a staircase.

“Inter-house unity!” Gerard calls after her and gives Steven a pointed look.

Steven isn’t actually paying attention, more concerned with the contents of the unfolded pigeongriff. There’s a short note that reads _‘library tmrrw @ 7pm for dada?’_ and underneath a small cartoon of a badger and a snake huddled (or maybe cuddled?) together reading a book. The snake even has a little pair of glasses on that resemble Steven’s a little too much to be coincidence.

“Oh merlin.” Gerard says, his height giving him the perfect vantage over Steven’s shoulder. “You really need to get over whatever this weird house thing is out of your system because he is _into_ you.”

Steven doesn’t bother telling Gerard (again) that it isn’t the house thing, as if he would have a problem with Hufflepuffs because, what is he, twelve?

If anything it should be Charlie who is wary of him and Steven’s own not-so-great house associations. But if Charlie held him responsible for his house’s founder keeping a monster in the plumbing, it didn’t seem to deter him in his quest to put his tongue in Steven’s mouth as often as possible.

Not that Steven was really actively discouraging him or anything.

 

The next night Charlie shows up twenty minutes late to their library date clearly having run up from Quidditch practice, smelling like the wind and polished leather. His hair is even more rumpled than usual and he’s still wearing his arm guards and gloves. He honestly looks so cute Steven forgets to be mad that he was late and resists the urge to just drag him behind a shelf and mess his hair up a little bit more.

Instead Steven just says, “You’re late.” And waves the permission slip he got from Keating for the restricted section at him.

“I know, sorry.” Charlie says, ducking his head a little, “Everyone’s a little wound up about the game, I lost track of time.”

Steven gives a noncommittal shrug and turns but Charlie catches him on the elbow, hands warm even through his gloves. “You know I wasn’t going to stand you up right? I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know.” Steven says slowly, “It really isn’t a big deal, I know you’re really busy. Come on let’s just go find this book.”

Charlie gives him a long look. The same kind he gets in divination sometimes, dreamy and intense at the same time. As if he’s trying to read Steven’s face like a crystal ball. But then he blinks and it all shatters,

“Yeah, yeah alright. You’re so studious Steven, maybe the hat messed up on you. Should have put you in Ravenclaw, I bet you look stunning in blue.”

“‘Cause of the hair?” Steven says mildly, not rising to the bait.

“‘Cause of the hair.” Charlie says, falling into step with him easily and trying to remove his leather gloves.

“I’m pretty sure I’m exactly where I belong frankly. And besides you’re one to talk about the hat making the wrong choice.” Steven says just as they reach the restricted section. It’s more or less exactly like the rest of the library, minus a small velvet rope and a small sign noting that 6th and 7th years wishing to enter must have a note from a professor and that all other students should enquire with the librarian.

“Hmmm?” Charlie says absentmindedly. Detaching the rope and holding it up for Steven, “After you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re toying with me, or if being unconventional is so normal to you that you’ve actually forgotten being the only hatstall in our year.” Steven says, turning to look at a shelf filled with books about medieval forms of magical torture. God, what was wrong with the Middle Ages?

Charlie leans up against a shelf and despite being well muscled in both his arms and shoulders he manages to give off the impression of a lazy cat. “Most boring seven minutes of my whole life honestly. Hat said I had a lot of potential, could go down many roads.” He shrugs. “I chose the road less travelled.”

Steven stops in his search. “You know Frost?” He asks, frankly shocked.

“Yeah, sure. He’s brilliant.” Charlie says, casually reaching over and lightly running his fingers down Steven’s shoulder.

“Was Frost a wizard and I just never knew?” Steven says, completely thrown off balance by Charlie Dalton, purest of the purebloods, throwing around Robert Frost like it’s nothing. Charlie doesn’t even know what a microwave is, nevermind iconic muggle writers. Or so Steven thought.

Charlie frowns, “No I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure he was a muggle.”

“And you like muggle poets? _You_ read muggle poetry?”

“It’s all just poetry babe.” Charlie says, and if Steven weren’t so off kilter he probably would have called him out on the endearment. He peels himself off the wall and slinks even closer to Steven. “But yeah, I like muggle poets. And novelists. And artists. And musicians too.”

By the end of this he’s so close Steven can feel Charlie’s breath on his neck before he leans in and kisses him wetly just where his neck meets his jaw.

And if he weren’t so filled with an anxious buzzing energy, Steven would let himself fall into it. It would be so easy to let Charlie crowd him against one of the shelves and give in to him. But he’s too wound up for that now.

“Steven? Hey.” Charlie says reaching back for him, can tell something’s not right. “What’s wrong?” He asks softly. It’s strange too because Charlie is all sharp lines and jagged edges, but Steven can feel him trying to be soft and gentle and it’s freaking him out.

“Okay no.” Steven starts, taking a step back, “But _you’re_ allowed to just to be like, ‘oh yeah muggle stuff is cool’ and it’s _fine_ because it’s just like, a novelty to you, and when you get bored of it you can put it back in it’s little box and go back to proper wizard things! And you don’t even realize what a privilege that is. To get to actually belong properly in one place without anyone questioning if you’re _allowed_ to be there.”

The words all come crashing out before Steven can even think twice about them. Belatedly, he thinks this is why he didn’t end up in Ravenclaw.

“Steven.” Charlie says, like all the wind’s been knocked out of him, knowing exactly what Steven isn’t saying. “You know I don’t care that you’re muggleborn.”

And there it is.

Steven tries to look anywhere but at Charlie. “Look, it doesn’t matter, can we just find the book and go?”

“Forget about the stupid book, it doesn’t even matter.” Charlie says. Which isn’t really true because they really need it for their project but Steven appreciates the sentiment none the less.

“Just forget about it. Please?”

“I can’t! Because I need to know that you don’t think I’m one of those blood elitist assholes who thinks purity is anything more than a racist wet dream.” Charlie says, sounding quite frankly a little frantic. “Because I literally couldn’t care less. It’s not even a thing to me.”

“Right exactly, it’s not a thing to you. So maybe _you_ don’t care, but what about your parents, or your uncle? People at school? Are you really so naive that you think no one cares anymore? They do Charlie. Trust me I would know.”

Charlie gives him a look, hair flopping over to the side and ruining the effect somewhat, “Is this why you didn’t want to tell people? Steven, my parents are currently in Belarus tracking a herd of nomadic unicorns, I don’t give a fuck about what randos think, and my uncle is an asshole. And a banker, which is even worse.”

The note Keating wrote is a crumpled ball in Steven’s hand which is probably a metaphor for the state of his life or something. “I know you don’t care Charlie. Not caring what people think is kind of your thing.”

“But?” Charlie prompts, hearing it without Steven saying anything.

“But,” Steven sighs, adjusting his glasses. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut? They could be making out right now instead of having this conversation. “I care. I care what people think of you and I don’t want you ruining your reputation and your relationship with your parents, and whatever’s left with your uncle just to-”

“Just to what?” Charlie says.

Steven bites his lip. “Just to put me back in my box when you’re done.”

“Oh.” Charlie says, taking a step back like Steven’s pushed him. Knocked the wind out of him like a stray bludger he didn’t see coming.

He’s quiet for a long time. Quieter than Steven ever thought Charlie could be. Finally he says, “You think this is like the hat right? Like I’m just weighing my options? Waiting to see what might come along that might be better.”

If he were a better person Steven would reassure him that, no he didn’t think that. Not at all, even a little bit. But then he’d be lying and probably wouldn’t be a better person after all. “You agreed so easily to not wanting to tell people.” Steven finally says instead of answering.

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted! I would get kicked out of The Three Broomsticks for you every weekend if that’s what you wanted. I don’t know if you heard, but loyalty is kind of a big thing for my people.” He gestures at his yellow and black tie.

“Seriously? You don’t care if people know? You’d do that for me?” Steven says, because it cannot possibly be this easy, can it? He remembers what the hat had said to him, taking only moments to sort him into Slytherin, a single whisper in his ear and a statement that has defined his life ever since.

_Oh, you like a challenge._

But the only challenge between him and Charlie, has been him.

“Steven Meeks.” Charlie says, taking his hands between his, one leather glove still unremoved. “I would do anything for you.” He brings Steven’s left hand to his mouth, just barely grazing his knuckles with a kiss.

Of course that would be the moment a pack of third year girls wander past the restricted section, giggling loudly. Charlie drops Steven’s hand from his mouth but doesn’t let go of the other. Still held tight in his gloved hand.

“I mean, you know, within reason and stuff.” He says and flicks his hair, trying to regain himself, all quidditch captain heartthrob and nonchalance. Hatstall indeed.

And just like that they’re okay.

“The Three Broomsticks huh?” Steven asks.

“Wellll,” Charlie says, “I’d actually been meaning to ask you if you wanted to come with me to our victory party tomorrow night. It’s very exclusive, only the entire house will be there.”

“Victory party? You don’t even know you’re going to win yet.”

“Oh I divined it last week in some tea leaves. Or was it a palm reading?”

Steven snorts. “You can’t see objective futures in palmistry, just personal ones. Even I know that and I barely passed third year divination.”

“Yes you can,” Charlie protests, grabbing Steven’s hand. “Look here. It says you will...” He squints at it, “Go to a party with a very handsome quidditch captain. It’s all right here in your love line”

Steven laughs, “Okay, shut up. I’ll _go_. Happy?”

Charlie hums in agreement, leaning forwards so their foreheads touch.

“Maybe we should find that book now,” Charlie whispers, like it’s a secret.

“Hmmmm, maybe. Or..”

“Or?” Charlie asks.

“We could do this.” Steven says, reeling him in by the collar and finding Charlie’s mouth already half open in a laugh. He’s dizzy with kissing Charlie and hears it rather than feels it when he thuds against the shelf and some books go tumbling to the ground. Steven really hopes they aren’t expensive. Or going to start screaming.

Sometime later, and judging from the fact that he’s now got Charlie pressed up against the opposite shelf with half a dozen books on the floor along with their ties, Steven would guess it’s been at least 20 minutes, someone loudly clears their throat behind them.

“You guys need to stop we’ve had like four complaints of the books moaning in the restricted section.” Neil says, a hand held out over his eyes.

“You’re not even a prefect Neil, you can’t tell us what to do.” Charlie says, and wow, his mouth is _really_ bruised.

“It’s fine. We’ll go.” Steven says, grabbing their ties off the ground and looping the yellow one over Charlie’s shoulders like a scarf. “That looks good. You should wear it like that all the time.”

Charlie grins at him, an actual real smile and not one of his golden boy smirks. “Maybe I’ll start.”

“ _Guys_ ,” Neil says, hand still covering his eyes, “Merlin, it was better when you were pretending you didn’t like each other.”

“No it wasn’t.” Steven mouths at Charlie, who winks at him.

“Give our love to Todd!” Charlie says as they pass Neil. “About time you two got it together.”

“Yeah I mean really, what’s the big deal?” Steven says, offering Charlie his hand, heart pounding at the idea. And for once he sort of understands the appeal of being a Gryffindor. Being daring and brave just once.

In fact, Steven’s feeling so triumphant about the idea of walking through the library holding Charlie’s hand he completely forgets about the book they were supposed to be looking for in the first place.

“Don’t worry.” Charlie says, “We’ll just make it up as we go along. It’s been working out pretty well so far.”

 

In the end Keating gives them both an Exceeds Expectations and 10 points each for “Outstanding Commitment to Inter-House Unity”.

**Author's Note:**

> In case the house sorting was unclear, Neil and Steven are in Slytherin, Knox and Charlie are in Hufflepuff, Ginny and Cameron are in Ravenclaw, and Chris, Gerard, and Todd are in Gryffindor. Why the heck all these Americans are at a British school is something you can figure out for yourself.


End file.
